“Although it has temporarily fallen from its former reigning throne,” she said as she slowly dropped her arm back to her side, “the days are soon approaching when it shall rise again and place into subjection the follies of the surface nations. Your feeble kings will surrender their crowns, begging for mercy even as we offer none. Your military powers will crumble and wilt as a lone bloom in the parched desert. All shall despair and quail at the sight of our return, for it will not be long. None now hope to stand in our way. Soon I shall be summoning you to myself, and you will do whatever I may bid you - even unto the utmost torturous death you can possibly fathom. And you shall obey with eager and diligent subservience, in the hope of bringing me pleasure.”
Then to his sheerest delight, she gently took his hands and pulled him into her. They slowly descended until they were lying on the ground. Her hair became golden as it wrapped itself around his face. Her hands moved along his back firmly but tenderly, caressing him. His entire body was now quaking as fire burned within his bones. She then moved her lips so close to his ear that her breath ignited fury in his mind.
“I am coming soon for you,” she breathed. “Do not keep me waiting.”
Her lips then found his, and he surrendered his will to her.
***
Something cold and wet jolted him from his dream. An Aesid was standing before him, dressed in black and silver garb, with an empty metal bucket in his hands. He had apparently just been doused with ice cold water.
How appropriate, he thought to himself. What was with that dream?
He took a moment to get his bearings. He was lying on his side in a small room, the right side of his head was throbbing, and his hands were tied behind his back. They were apparently not in the lava-lit temple anymore, for the walls were not crudely carved out of rock but were smooth and shiny black. Small multi-colored lights winked on and off in the walls, and cold white lights lit the room from the ceiling and floor corners. His coat had been placed on a table made of the same material as the room. Another Aesid stood behind him, arms crossed, holding Faldrahil in its scabbard. He was dressed similarly to the other Aesid. There was no one else in the room.
Is this where all the obsidian made its way to? he wondered.
He pulled himself up to his knees, doing his best to swallow the pulsating ache in his head.
“Where are the others?” he asked aloud.
This caused the Aesid standing behind him to drill him in the back of the head with the scabbard, knocking Rylek forward and planting his face on the floor. Instinctively he turned his face away as he fell, but the side he chose to bear the impact was the side that was already throbbing from being hit the first time. He sharply drew in his breath as his head screamed at him.
I’d better be careful with all of these head injuries, he mused. I might crack up.
The Aesid in front of him set the bucket down and took a step towards him. “It is so very odd to hear your lowly uncivilized speech here within our walls,” he said. “I have not uttered anything in the profane tongue since I was a youth. I find the diction to taste utterly putrid.” He rose to his feet and a curious look spread on his face. “And yet I surprisingly feel a peculiar thrill of joy at the same time; the same kind of joy I experience when I know I am…misbehaving.” An evil glint shone in his eye. “But regardless of how we choose to speak with one another, I am the one who will be asking the questions. You shall answer them all.” He squatted down by Rylek. “We have very certain ways of making sure we get the truth out of you, and I have a way of knowing whether what you are telling me is true or not. So let us not waste any of my time or of your time, shall we?”
“Please, I’ll tell you whatever you want,” Rylek said, “just as long as I know the others are alright.”
The Aesid studied him for a minute and then helped him back to his knees. “Very well,” he said, “they are no worse off than you, for the moment anyway. But that will depend on how well you cooperate with me.”
Rylek noticed in this artificial light that these Aesid were even paler in complexion than Andulibar and his people. Their skin was a sickened marble-gray, their eyes were a bright pink, and they wore their snowy-white hair long and full. He was struck with how coldly beautiful they were, and how their contrasting attire made them seem all the more menacing.
“You may address me as Pherin,” the Aesid said as he rose again. He took a chair from the table and sat it in front of Rylek. “Would you care to tell me your name?” he said as he sat down.
A drop of what must have been blood trickled down the back of Rylek’s neck. Fabulous, he mused again. Will I ever heal that wound?
“My name is Rylek,” he said.
Pherin studied his face for a moment. “Honest so far,” he said. “How did you come here?”
Rylek paused. He felt it was dangerous to reveal the location of the Twilight Gate.
“I have already examined your friends,” Pherin said. “They have provided me with the answers I required. So either your response will line up with theirs, or I will know you are lying.”
“I was brought here, along with my friends,” Rylek said. “Some of us possess certain…capabilities; capabilities that I don’t fully understand.”
Pherin nodded. “Fair enough. Tell me why you and your friends are trespassing upon our sacred grounds.”
“In all honesty, I’m not sure of every motive,” Rylek said. “But for the most part, we wanted to silently observe your people.”
“To what end?”
Rylek paused again. He knew that the main reason they were here was to help Andulibar and his people to move beyond the faults of their ancestors. But he did not want to risk exposing their hidden location.
“To merely understand history better,” he finally said.
Pherin smiled. “Is that all we have become to you and your joke of a race? A history lesson? Have you so quickly forgotten the fear our people instilled in your hearts as we nearly destroyed you in your inferiority? Were it not for the aid of the usually apathetic Aedaar, your filth would have been eradicated millennia ago.”
“You flatter me with your speech,” Rylek dared. Though he could not explain it, something deep inside was beginning to burn hotly. He heard the Aesid behind him shuffle.
A raised palm from Pherin, however, stopped him. “You are courageous in your wit,” he said, a cold smile spreading across his face. “Foolish, but courageous none the less. That, at least, is to be somewhat admired. Tell me, Rylek, what fills you with such bravery at this, your darkest of hours?”
“I do not fear you,” Rylek said, the words seemingly coming from somewhere else, “because I know we will escape your grasp.”
Pherin smiled again. “Really?” he asked. “It is so pathetic that you actually believe that. Please enlighten me with how you shall escape.”
Rylek shrugged. “I haven’t figured it out yet,” he said, as casually as he could. “But rest assured, I will lead my friends safely from your joke of an imprisonment.” His voice was now building with an authority he could not explain. “And one day I will return here with the power granted unto me by those who have it vested in them. And then I will free the imprisoned Aenosh souls from their prison while I offer you mercy one final time before you and your people will be destroyed once and for all.”
His words and tone were so convincing that for the briefest of moments a shadow crossed over Pherin’s face. But he quickly composed himself and laughed out loud. “Bold words from someone who is about to lose his life,” he said coldly. “Who exactly do you claim to be?”
“You will not harm me again,” Rylek said, even as images of the Oathbinder and Selenor flitted before his eyes. But he knew exactly what he could or could not say right now. He could not explain it, but never before had he seen his own destiny laid out before him so clearly. Though he did not know how it would happen, he knew beyond any doubt that they would escape Khragzul. “It has been declared so.”
“By
whom?”
“By The One. By Daar.”
Pherin rose from his chair. “You shall not utter that name again,” he said scathingly and softly, “for the penalty is death. Just as it is for the murder you recklessly committed. Your time has come.” He walked around to the other Aesid and took the scabbard from him. Then he circled back towards the front of Rylek, drawing Faldrahil out as he went. “A beautiful, finely wrought blade,” he said admiringly. “It will suit me well. And it shall not inflict too much pain on you, I suppose. Understand my mercy by allowing you a quick death.”
But at that moment, the door slid open and another Aesid stepped inside the room. Rylek thought he looked anxious. “She is here,” he said to Pherin. “And she demands audience with the Aenosh.”
An expression of shock spread over Pherin’s face as he looked back at Rylek, who looked defiantly into his eyes as if to say I told you so. Pherin then squinted at the messenger and said something in a language Rylek did not understand. From the sound of it he believed he was asking a question.
The messenger paused. “She demands we all do so,” he said. “She desires the Aenosh to understand every word we say.”
Slowly Pherin sheathed Faldrahil and looked to the Aesid still standing behind Rylek.
“Take the condemned,” he commanded, then looked at Rylek one last time. “Enjoy your visit,” he said through bared teeth. “I am sure your time with her Ladyship will be most pleasant.” He then walked out the door.
***
The Aesid guard roughly led Rylek from the room and through a long tall hallway. Everywhere he looked he saw the same angular black walls, floors and ceilings. Hundreds of small lights twinkled on and off, and everything shone with a crystalline brilliance. He thought he could hear a slight hum, but he guessed it was his ears ringing from being struck several times.
After a few turns down adjoining halls they arrived at a large ascending staircase. Black banners hung from the ceiling bearing the same design he had seen at the entrance to the cave of Fornrihgula’s temple. Two Aesid guards stood at the top, on either side of a large doorway, holding fearsome spears in their hands.
Rylek was led up the stairs and through the sliding doors, where they opened into a colossal room.
I could easily fit most of Calm in here, he thought to himself. I guess all Aesid like large spaces.
Giant statues of Aesidian figures made from crystal lined the way. He could not help but feel awed at the sight. It took them several minutes but they finally made it to the other end of the room, where four more Aesid stood with their backs to him. Another grand staircase led up to an impressive throne which had the backdrop of a dark swirling wall. He was trying to figure out why the swirling wall seemed so familiar to him when his escort pushed him to the ground on the right of the other Aesid, whom he now realized were standing guard over his group of friends. Each of them were on their knees, hands bound behind their backs. Selenor was on his left, then Altan, next Lana, and finally Tresten knelt at the other end. The girls looked frightened out of their minds. Tresten’s head was buried in his chest, and he seemed to be swaying a little. Rylek thought he even heard him moaning. Altan appeared calm, though Rylek thought he looked weak and pale.
“Are you okay?” Selenor asked him. “What’s happening to us?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about me. Did they hurt you?”
Selenor tried to smile. “No, I’m okay,” she said.
“Enough chatting,” Pherin said, and Rylek noticed he stood to the right of them behind a desk where Faldrahil and Silran were set. “Her Ladyship Keona, the Empress of Teravihn’dael is…”
“Is here,” came a familiar voice. Tresten suddenly screamed again. Rylek looked up and in a fit of shock recognized the woman emerging from a door to his left as the woman from his dream, only this time she had no wings. She stood much shorter than the other Aesid, and he guessed she was Selenor’s height. In reality she was every bit as beautiful as she was in his dream - so perfect that his heart hurt to look upon her. Her skin was not like the Aesid, but was colored like his, and her eyes were the same piercing sapphire as they had been in his vision. Long golden strands of hair were pulled back and tied off into a braided tail, and a thin sliver of a crystal or diamond tiara was set upon her brow. She wore no shoes upon her feet, and with an embarrassing observation he realized her white arraignment was sheer. Her form was perfect, statuesque.
A goddess, he thought to himself.
She smiled.
He tried to lower his head out of respect and shame, to free his eyes from lust, but found they could not waver from looking at her form. His will fought hard but something was keeping his eyes locked upon her. Deep within his chest his heart began to pound loudly, beating out the sensual rhythm pulsing through his veins. He swore he heard the drums from the temple of Fornrihgula echoing in his ears.
“Nasty whore!” he heard Lana whisper through gritted teeth.
Apparently the Empress either did not hear her, or did not care. The other Aesid in the room had fallen on their faces in respect before her. She casually observed everyone in the room, and then her eyes rested on Rylek. No one offered her a word as she moved salaciously across the room towards him.
Though the room was probably silent, he would have made wagers that there were storms raging in his ears. His hands began to shake uncontrollably. The entire time her deep blue eyes were locked with his. She then leaned over so that her face was mere inches from his. Her fragrance washed over him and drove him to near madness.
“You are most welcome within my magnificent and sacred temple,” she said in a voice so sweet that his insides wasted away to nothing. It seemed like her words were coming from everywhere, all around him, even from within. Everything else in the room dissolved and faded till all he knew was her. “Does your heart long for what your eyes see?” she asked as the tip of her finger lightly touched his lower lip. An itchy fire erupted there. “To gaze, to touch, to taste, to possess?” His heart was about to erupt. “I told you I was coming for you. Indeed, I now see that you are very brave and incredibly strong. Though I do not truly know you the way I desire to, I shall soon enough - for I am desperately in need of one like you.” She then drew so close that her lips brushed up against his. “Thank you for not making me wait for long,” she said softly and provocatively.
She then slowly pulled away from him, and to Rylek it felt as though the ground had fallen out from under his feet. He was quaking like a madman, desperate to rise up and embrace her, but found he could not move. He was frozen in place, helpless to her power. His whole body shivered uncontrollably as he watched her walk further away to his left, ignoring Selenor and stopping in front of Altan. She did not stoop down to him, but instead said a most curious thing.
“Hello, my old friend. I certainly did not expect to see you again - at least, not so soon.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Rylek could see that Altan slowly shook his head in disbelief. “It cannot be,” he said. “How is this possible?”
“Diligence pays off,” she said coyly. “All of your vain efforts are now proven barren. I am, and have indeed returned.”
“But I know what I saw mere minutes ago…”
“It matters not what you saw,” she said.
To Rylek’s ears her voice was the most melodic sound he had ever heard, and every other sound, including Altan’s voice, seemed gruff and detuned from beauty.
“It matters not,” she continued, “because even if you truly saw what you believe you have seen, it is all for naught. None of you shall ever escape here. You shall never tell those who long ago turned their backs upon you what you have seen and are seeing.”
“You underestimated me before. Do not be foolish enough to do so again,” Altan said.
Keona merely laughed, and it was arpeggios of tingles down Rylek’s spine. “How you amuse me, old pitiful fool!” she said. “You have no idea how powerful I have become, nor of how much
more powerful I shall yet be. But soon you shall see, and you shall beg for mercy as I assault the damned heights of Teth’enahl and claim what is rightfully mine.”
“You shall never prevail!” he said.
“And you shall never learn,” she said. “All is over; Mira has been forsaken. Even now I shall offer to you my most gracious gift of serving me as a dutiful slave as I take the ultimate power. It is the only option left for you, old friend. Without my aid you know you cannot survive here for much longer.”
“Never shall I!” Altan said, though his voice was weakening.
“We shall see. It matters not anyway, for I surely do not need you. I have willing souls right here.”
She then passed by Lana and stood in front of Tresten, who was rocking himself. With each step she took away from Rylek, he felt as though a weighted chain were drawing heavier around his heart, and more and more he longed for nothing more than to hold her, to have her for himself. If she moved much further away, his heart would be wrung dry.
“And you,” she said to Tresten, who was muttering to himself and swaying on his knees. “You whom I surprisingly also know very well, though you do not yet know me – you who shall be my prince.” She gently cradled his head in her hands and raised him to his feet.
All else grew dark in Rylek’s eyes as he could see nothing but the radiant form of the Empress and a silhouette that he assumed was Tresten. Her fingers lightly caressed the silhouette’s head, playing tenderly down its cheeks and running through its hair. The fire began to burn hotter through Rylek’s veins as a fit of jealous rage overtook his mind.
“I see the power within you, so I know why my presence pains you,” she said to Tresten. “But it is I alone who can heal you of its torturous ways. Our children shall sit on thrones ruling over all of Mira forever.”
Her voice had grown so hypnotic and infectious to Rylek that everything he had ever known previously seemed garish and foul. His family and friends, the village of Calm, even Selenor herself were mere mockeries of the true beauty that the Empress Keona possessed. His heart flung them all aside, wanting only the highest prize. He envisioned himself drawing Faldrahil from the desk and slaying this foul shadow creature that dared to sully the perfection of his priceless jewel. Desperately he tried to make his legs work, but they ignored him. All the while he never took his eyes off her eyes.
The Children of Calm Page 24